A/N: So this one shot is officially a full blown work-in-progress fanfic. I have no idea when the next one will come out and I'm not going to pretend that I have some kind of schedule. I'll just write when I can/able and you'll get the finished product ASAP.
Spotte (hiss)= Terrible Terror
Reisen, with Frelser on his back, stood at the edge of a high cliff that dropped to the ocean. It was a windy day, ideal for their first attempt at flying after months of trial and error. Frelser shifted his weight, making sure his feet were secure in his stirrups and that his harness was firmly attached to the saddle. His grip tightened as he took in a series of short breaths followed by a long inhale and a measured exhale. Reisen went through his own start up ritual, shaking his head to release any knots, digging into the earth to ensure a firm take-off and moving his tail back and forth to make sure his prosthetic was firmly attached.
Without meaning to, Reisen though back to all their errors that brought them to this point. The hours spent painstakingly learning each position: Frelser learning what each meant for turning, altitude, etc and Reisen memorizing the names of each one. Reisen had to forget everything he instinctively knew about flying and make way for this new style. He had to not only learn the names, but how Frelser's weight shifted in accordance so he could properly compensate. The problem was this was all new for Frelser, so he wasn't consistent and sometimes shifted too much one way or the other, to the point where the spun off in opposite directions despite Reisen's best efforts. Through practice Frelser became more sensitive with how he needed to sit in the saddle and Reisen became proficient at adapting to the little nuances.
Then there was the first time Frelser flew on his back and how his legs had become bloody from Reisen's scales. He didn't come back for a few days and it was weeks before he was healed enough to try flying again. He had used a saddle after that, which took some modifications to make sure Reisen still retained the full range of motion of his wings and adjusting to having to carry another body on his back but it worked well enough. The issue was the time delays set them back and it took some time to bring them to where they were before.
But it was the first time he had flown since his tail fin was sheared off that was foremost in Reisen's mind. Despite the fact that they ended up in the pond, that feeling of finally being free of the ground had kept Reisen going despite all their mistakes and was the only reason he was about to jump from this cliff. Even if he died at least he would die flying with thoughts of clouds and wind being the last feelings he would know.
Reisen focused in on the feeling of flying and shut all the other memories from his mind. Frelser spoke but it was the way he shifted his weight forward that signaled to Reisen that it was time. He spread his wings, flapping once, twice. Bending his legs, he dug in his claws and launched himself from the edge. For once heart-sickening moment, he felt himself free-falling but a gust of wind caught in his wings and lifted him forward and up until he was suspended above the water.
Reisen allowed himself a moment to lose himself in the ecstasy of finally, finally, flying when Frelser patted him. It was time to begin. After a moment of deliberating, Frelser called out the position and Reisen reacted accordingly. They carved out long, sweeping arc before righting themselves. Checking back to make sure everything was well; Frelser shifted his weight forward, propelling them down in a relatively tame dive. They pulled up about 20 feet above the surface of the water and headed toward one of the archways that sat off shore. Passing through successfully with all things intact, they slammed into a rocky pillar, twice before Reisen smacked Frelser to get his attention before it happened a third time.
Frelser called out the next position, Reisen's favorite: Climb. Frelser sat low and back while Reisen tipped up, clawing upwards with each sweep of his wings. Before long they were above the height of the rocks, in level with the clouds. Suddenly though, Frelser propelled himself back, forcing Reisen to slow lest they be pulled in a flip. Reisen paused, momentarily suspended, when he looked up and saw Frelser directly above him and not on his back. In the few beats Reisen gaped in surprise, gravity took hold and he began to plummet back to the earth. Flapping feverishly, he tried to right when Frelser sped past him, knocking his wing. The jarring collision coupled with the momentary closing of his wing caused an imbalance and sent Reisen into a sickening corkscrew.
Holding his wings out despite the wind that tried to force them close, Reisen began to slow long enough to Frelser to grab onto the saddle. Quickly latching in, Frelser pulled up. Reisen's wings caught the air, billowing as far as the thin membrane would allow. Through sheer, horrible luck they were heading toward one of the areas thickest in rocky outcroppings. For a horrible second, Reisen thought he'd get his wish but it wouldn't be freedom and elation going through his head as he smashed in the unforgiving rock, but fear and the cold certainty of death.
The shift in Frelser's weight snapped him out of his trance. Reisen adjusted automatically, no longer listening for positions and only paying attention to the click of Frelser's pedals and the weight on his back. They dived and turned, with plenty of near misses that would have given both of them pause if they had any concentration to spare.
Frelser had unknowingly given full control over to Reisen's instincts, unconsciously noting the angle of his head and the tip of his wings and adjusted so as to give the least resistance but lending his weight when necessary. All the weeks of practicing coupled with the necessity of survival had cemented all the positions in his mind and he steered without conscious effort, furling and expanding the fin in synchronization with Reisen.
Less than 30 seconds later they were through the rocks and in the open air, each exhilarated by what they had just accomplished. Frelser stood and cheered, throwing his arms open in a release of adrenalin and emotion. Reisen shot a bolt of energy, flying through it as it dissipated into a thin fire cloud. Reisen enjoyed the warmth it temporarily infused but he made a mental note to reserve this behavior when Frelser wasn't on his back, noting his singed appearance when they eventually landed.
Reisen flapped a few times to pick up speed as they swept a wide arc toward shore, gliding the rest of the way. The settled on the rocky beach, Frelser gathering the collection of fish he had brought before they set out while Reisen started a small fire both for warmth and for Frelser to cook his food.
They settled around the fire's dancing glow and drew inward with their own thoughts on what exactly they just accomplished. They didn't have long though before a small swarm of Spottes surrounded them. Reisen growled a warning and gathered his food close to himself but one managed to steal a fish. Reisen snatched it back and ate it, sending out the jeering whoops used by pups to antagonize their fellow nestlings. To any adult dragon, it was a sure fire way to get your face singed. Sure enough, the Spotte prepared to unleash their bullet-like fire blasts but Reisen met it with a small energy blast that ignited the gas while it was still inside the Spotte. The Spotte tottered away, thoroughly defeated when Frelser tossed a small fish in its direction. The Spotte shook itself out of its daze and ate the gift. Being part of the lower hierarchies, Spottes weren't expected to offer back half of the fish. The Spotte settled in next to Frelser, though Reisen was too busy finishing his meal to notice or care.
They remained like this until just after the sun had set when the Spotte flew off and Frelser hopped on Reisen's back, landing back in the clearing. Despite the fact that the clearing could no longer contain him, Reisen and Frelser continued to use it. And with the knowledge that he was free once more, Reisen no longer thought of it as a prison. It was a sanctuary, known by only him and Frelser; their own private place, free from the brutish humans that populated Frelser's nest and the larger dragons that wouldn't be as benign as the lowly Spottes.